


A Poison Kiss

by AshadelMG



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Don't Think I Got To The Killing, F/F, F/M, Messy, Pain, Public Sex, Talks of Killing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 16:12:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshadelMG/pseuds/AshadelMG
Summary: Ashadel is called in once again for a favor, and as she well knows, all favors come with benefits.





	1. Chapter One

The room was warm, dimly lit by nothing more than the light of a handful of long white tapers set into sconces on the walls. The owner of the room had found a balance between modesty and luxury, decorating simple wooden walls with framed portraits of smiling young women and moody landscapes. Of color, there was plenty. The dark wood, though by no means expensive, was accented with rich tones of scarlet and gold on the plush chairs, the drapes that were drawn over the one – currently closed and locked tight – window, and the thick blanket that served to keep away the chill.  
  
Downstairs, the bar was rowdy and full of the sounds of laughter and speech. Upstairs, in that one room of many, it was no less quiet. The floor was festooned with clothing of various colors; a shirt so dark a green that it was nearly black, leather leggings that  _were_  black, an over-the-knee heeled boot whose brother was flung carelessly over one of the chairs, a corset and skirt thrown haphazardly away near the door, and even a ripped chemise of light blue. Even a pair of swords had been dropped to the ground and kicked away, sitting halfway beneath a raised set of drawers.  
  
The bed shuddered as weight was thrown onto it, a soft peal of half-laughter sounding just before a rich and satisfied groan became muffled in the disturbed blankets. The woman waited a moment, her fingers curling in the covers, and then pushed herself up and threw her head back, eyes half closed. She was a lovely thing, creamy skin marked only with the deep pink of fervent love-bites and the flush of exertion. Cherry-dark hair framed her face and spilled onto the bed in a tangle of curls, her full lips darkened to a shade similar. Her eyes, a stormy gray, were framed by thick lashes and had been lined with black kohl.   
  
Her body was toned, but bore a little more weight than someone who was completely active, with an impressively large bust that would have seemed out of place had her hips not been equally wide. Her nipples were dark and erect, and she uttered another rich moan as a slender hand wrapped beneath one breast, fingers gripping one nipple and pinching lightly before digging a nail into the tender flesh. Her noises jumped an octave, and she collapsed down against the bed once more, reaching hands as if trying to grasp the other side of the bed.  
  
Above her, her companion grinned a devilish grin. Fine white lines that soon darkened to pink appeared along the woman's skin, down to her tailbone. The fingers shifted, digging their pads into the woman's thick hips as the second woman bent down along the back of the first's, peppering her shoulder with sweet kisses and wanting nips. Below her, the red-head groaned and managed words. “You're a fuckin' cheat, Ash.”  
  
Ashadel grinned, lifting a hand to tangle fingers in the woman's hair and turn her head. For a moment there was a struggle, and finally the woman relented and welcomed the kiss that lasted until both needed air. It broke with them gasping. “Tsk. I use what I have at my disposal,” the elven rogue kissed her way along her companion's jaw to her neck, taking skin between her teeth and suckling, leaving another mark among the many. “Besides, you love every moment of it.” Her mouth moved to the woman's shoulder, biting her as her hips moved, pulling the surprisingly thick dildo attached to the black leather harness she wore around her hips just a few inches out before driving it slowly back in.  
  
As expected, the redhead shuddered and gasped, her walls tightening around the thick invader, providing resistance against the one that matched it hilted inside of the rogue herself. “No, oh gods, not again. Isn't four enough?” The woman managed a weak little laugh that dissolved beneath heady moans as Ashadel's hips continued to move, and her hand wound around curved hips and between her legs to spread the woman's labia wide.  
  
“I'm not stopping until you stop playing games and tell me why you called me here, Myra.” Her green eyes flashed, and she dragged her tongue up the middle of Myra's spine, tasting the sweat that had sprung up. “Your own fault for playing with the pretty boy in the bar instead of looking for me.”  
  
“How do you know I didn't know you were dressed as a boy again? Ohhh...” Myra's back arched as the rogue rubbed her fingers along her clit, her fingers digging into her palms. “Fuckin' fel, Asha!”  
  
Ashadel chuckled, sitting up again. Her hand splayed along the flesh of Myra's ass, and without warning she struck her, relishing the cry of shock and delight that came only moments before the moan as Ashadel picked up her pace, sending the toy home with controlled thrusts. Her hand continued to strike, sometimes lazy backhands against one cheek and sometimes smart whacks with her fingers that made it feel as if she were flogging.  
  
Myra lifted herself up again, palms pressing down into the blankets as she rocked back, heavy breasts swaying. Her ass met Ashadel's hips with a smack, making the elven woman groan and throw her head back, blonde hair sticking to her face and back. There was no need to remain quiet, and neither of them bothered with it. The room rang with their coupled moans, and Myra's whimpers. The smacking of skin on skin became louder until at last it stopped, and Myra was forced down as the elven woman pushed her hips close against the woman's voluptuous ass, driving the dildo into them both as far as it would go, and yet pushing even still.   
  
Myra fairly screamed into the covers as she came, the floor dampening with girl-cum that squirted out from her between the dildo that opened her wide. She barely felt her companion withdraw, but heard the rough breathing and felt the gentle hands that scooped her up and escorted her onto the bed. She collapsed against the pillows, a soft mewl of complaint heard as her half-lidded eyes caught the sight of the elven rogue attaching a second toy below the first and climbing atop her, centering herself between her legs. “You're impossible...”  
  
“I told you the rules.” The rogue leaned forward, capturing Myra's mouth in a kiss while she dragged the newly attached toy along the woman's slick and abused folds, bumping the firm tip against her clit. Myra's moans mingled in the kiss, her fingers coming up to tangle in Ashadel's hair and scratch nails along the woman's scalp until it was the rogue who purred just as heatedly, breaking the kiss. “Tell me...” Her lips quirked in a grin as Myra remained robbed of words, breathless.  
  
Her attention went instead to the human woman's breasts, her tongue flicking over one erect nipple and then circling it in a slow, sensual movement while she wriggled her hips, sinking the second toy into her companion and then withdrawing, leaving the woman mewling. She lavished attention on the other nipple as her hands cupped Myra's ass, moving her closer and parting her ass before guiding the thinner – but still large – toy into the much tighter hole.  
  
She did it with care, in short pulses that still brought the human woman to shuddering moans. Once it had been pressed in a few inches, she centered the first toy at Myra's labia, stroking the sensitive skin with the flesh-textured toy. Satisfied that her companion could handle the intrusion, she pressed gently upon the top of it, and then moved her hips forward, sinking both toys slowly into her friend.   
  
The human bucked her hips, a mildly pained gasp escaping as her eyes shut tight. Her hand flew to her mouth, catching the knuckle of her pointer finger between her teeth. “Light, Asha... it's bigger than last time... it hurts...” She mewled and writhed, her free hand gripping the headboard while Ashadel kissed and bit at her neck.  
  
“Relax... I'd never do to you what I wouldn't do to myself.” The rogue nibbled at Myra's earlobe, relaxing as she felt the woman's arm drape around her neck and the solid feel of the harness pressing against her skin. She gave her friend a few moments to become accustomed to the feel and then slowly pulled from her, until only the tips of the toys remained within. As expected, the buxom redhead mewled with want, pushing her hands against the headboard in an effort to scoot herself down and impale herself on the toys. But Ashadel's firm grip on her hips kept her from doing so.  
  
Myra groaned, half annoyed at her friend's antics until the woman thrust forward again. All thoughts of revenge flew from her mind as the elven woman picked up her pace, throwing aside caution and care to slam into her full force. Myra's soft moan became cries of sheer pleasure, and pleas for the woman not to stop. Her body twisted and writhed all on it's own as Ashadel's thrusts changed, fully hilting the thick toy deep inside and then beginning to remove it just as the one in her ass slammed home.  
  
The rogue watched her friend's eyes closed, and knew what she imagined. The buxom woman was a slave to the feeling of sex, and loved to be filled in all holes. It was an illusion, the illusion of two men deep inside the human woman, that she sought to bring to her friend. She bent down, never stopping her merciless pace, and groped the woman's breasts just as roughly, her mouth meeting that of Myra's and muffling the peals of pleasure that echoed around them. She broke it just long enough to speak.  
  
“Tell me, or I stop.”  
  
“Light, please don't. Don't even joke.”  
  
Ashadel's hips staggered, and Myra's voice staggered with it. “No, no! Please, oh for fuck's sake, don't!” Her feet dug into the bed, planting firmly and then moving to her tiptoes, the angle making her sob. Torturously, the rogue slowed her pace, staving off her impending climax and settling the pleasurable burning to mere embers.   
  
“Stopping.”  
  
Myra grimaced, shaking her head. “No, fine! I'll tell you! I'll tell, just please don't stop...” Her back arched as Ashadel pressed herself close, the toys sunk deep inside of her. “A job, it's a job.”  
  
“Knew that.” The rogue moved to pull herself out, but found herself bound in place as Myra's legs wrapped around her hips. Instead, she lowered her mouth back to the woman's breasts, suckling the nipple roughly.   
  
“An associate has a particularly difficult husband. The m-man can't keep his dick to himself, and has amassed a rather large harem o-of women that – oh, Light – he thinks his w-wife doesn't know a-about.” Myra spoke through a fogged mind, every word rewarding her with a gentle thrust. “I t-told her what you did f-for me...”  
  
“I killed your husband because of the abuse, nothing more.” Ashadel suckled the flesh of the breast, her eyes half-lidded in thought while she rhythmically continued to fuck her friend, a wet sound heard over the relative silence.  
  
“Y-yes, but she came to my home the other night and s-she had a black eye. He's becoming abusive, calling her n-names and throwing her about before l-leaving to go to his other women...” Myra shuddered, clamping her bottom lip between her teeth, her head shaken back and forth.   
  
The rogue left her breast, kissing her way up Myra's chest to her mouth, drawing her into a kiss that muffled all sound as she considered the idea being put forth. Her hips slowed, and the human woman whimpered. “Fine,” Ashadel whispered against her lips. “My price remains the same, but you both must pay.”  
  
Myra nodded quickly, half afraid that her friend would change her mind, but she knew the deal was sealed when the slender woman straightened, forcibly throwing Myra's legs over her shoulders and using them to brace herself as her hips slammed into hers, driving the toys deep inside, their size pressing against all the right spots and filling her so completely. Myra's back bowed as she came, screaming her friend's name to the room as the elf ruthlessly continued, drawing out a second, and then third rolling orgasm that coaxed the rogue's own from her.  
  
When Ashadel finally pulled from her with a wet sound, neither woman cared that the sheets were wet with sweat and cum, only that the body of the other was warm and soft. Ashadel discarded the toys, groaning softly when the thick toy slid from her, and collapsed beside her friend, catching her mouth in a sensual kiss that continued just before they both fell asleep, with the rogue pillowed on Myra's breasts.  
  
In the morning, Myra woke to an empty room, with only a note left on the table alongside a long-stemmed red rose.   
  


_“Tell her to meet me tonight at the bar, and to wear a green ribbon in her hair._   
_Thoughts, Ashadel.”_

  
  
Myra chuckled, then laughed aloud. The twin blades that Ashadel treasured were gone, but that was all that had been taken. While she moved herself to stand, the human woman wondered just how far her friend had gotten without her clothes, then shook her head.  
  
It  _was_  Ashadel, after all.


	2. Chapter Two

The gates of the manor were open wide, but she knew that there would be no getting past them for her. The magi sentries that stood by the door were smart, and quicker to set ruffians aflame than ask questions. Ashadel watched the procession of carts and carriages from where she sat ensconced in one of them, the black chased with silver a seemingly simple design when compared to the lavish settings she was in.  
  
Beside her was a woman of pale skin and even paler hair, vivid blue eyes partly hidden beneath thick lashes. The elven woman seemed to be in a half-sleep, her eyes fallen partway closed and chest rising and falling in even breaths. Ashadel knew better but said nothing, her eyes going instead to the two sitting opposite her and her elven companion. Another woman watched her with almond-shaped eyes of golden amber, full of quiet distrust. The woman was a rare, exotic beauty; dark of skin and black of hair, with an hourglass figure that was draped in a formfitting black dress whose neck was cut so low as to reveal her navel.  
  
Her hands were neatly folded in her lap, but the rogue could see the slight twitch that happened every time she dared to move, as if the woman was truly holding herself back from lunging at her and strangling the life from her. Yet, she remained safe, for no woman wished to displease the final passenger that sat with them. Myra's half-brother cut an intimidating image, standing a good six inches taller than the average high elf. His interests in physical combat and travel had honed his body into one that was well-muscled and evenly tanned. He was, and Ashadel knew this quite personally, a very dominant man who expected nothing but the best, be it from what he wore to the women he chose to keep company with. His company was carefully kept, his actions brash and painful when he was angered.   
  
“He's waiting for you.” Elirra's eyes fluttered open, her hand moving to squeeze Ashadel's knee. The women traded broad smiles while the dark-skinned woman seethed. “He'll open the barrier for you to slip in, but he says that you'll have to make it the rest of the way on your own. Lord Richard has extra security this evening, but the guards in the back gardens are mercenaries who aren't all that keen, if you grasp my meaning. It will be your best option.”   
  
Rorick moved from where he leaned against the wall of the carriage, brushing non-existent fluff from the sleeve of his immaculate tuxedo jacket. “Myra and Seralla will be together for the entirety of the night. I'm sure you'll cross paths, but do try not to get too carried away.” His eyes met her own, cold blue against vivid green, and while his features did not change from their stern neutrality, she saw the tease hidden within, and her smile became a grin.  
  
The carriage stopped, and Ashadel's body seemed to fade as the door was opened. Rorick stood and left, and she hugged his form before slipping away from them. The grounds were crowded, with people milling about as they waited for friends, and others being escorted along. She passed through the throng easily, and no one was the wiser. For all the security that the Lord of the estate had in place, it was not enough to deter one such as herself. For the countless gold he had no doubt wasted on the mercenaries he had hired, he could have bought hounds that would have done much better.  
  
As it was, she found the human mage easily, and it was not long before the barrier was closing behind her invisible ass, and she was pulling the man deeper into the bushes to speak, much to his assumed displeasure. She let the shadows fall away once she felt they were safe, leveling a coy gaze upon the middle-aged man. “Thank you, Gregory.” Her leather-clad rump met stone, and she grinned as she sat down on the stone bench that seemed half-hidden in the wall of hedges. “I've got time to kill. I don't suppose I could find a way to repay you..?”  
  
She let the question hang while she examined her nails, pretending not to notice the way his annoyance had dissolved and turned into something much more similar to wary lust. Even his robes could not hide the incriminating evidence of his thoughts, and she failed to hide her grin as he shifted in an attempt to disguise the slowly growing bulge. Her hands went out, gripping his robes lightly and dragging him closer, and she ignored his soft refusals.   
  
“Come off it, Gregory. There's not a soul out here in this end of the garden. I'm not even sure the groundskeeper has been here in months. I need to be out here for a couple hours at least...” Her eyes turned up to meet his, the prettiest pout she could manage pulling at her lips while she bent forward and nuzzled the bulge hidden in his robes. “Just you and me, alone...” Her mouth opened, and she surrounded the tip of his clothed cock with her lips, dragging her tongue along the fabric.  
  
His head fell back, hands going to tug the tie that bound her hair up and away from her face away, tossing it aside while his free hand combed through the silken strands. He didn't speak, but she knew that he wanted to. Her hands cupped his groin, tracing fingers up along his shaft, counting the inches under her breath. Ten inches of shaft, each marked with a bead beneath the skin, and a thick crown. Easily twelve inches, and considerably thick. A rare man, and a particularly painful one at that, but what was pleasure without a little pain?  
  
She nuzzled his cock, the nail of one finger tracing where she knew the man's heavy sac would be. He nearly bucked under the touch, and the softest of moans escaped his lips as he twisted her hair in his hand, jerking her head to the side. The strike came without warning, and her cheek buzzed with the painful tingle of it, quickly abated by the feeling of chill fingers skating over the heated flesh. Ashadel purred, even as he jerked her hair harder, baring her neck and the slim collar she wore to him.  
  
“Still owned?” His fingers slipped beneath the band of metal, and her eyes snapped closed as the memory of pain echoed deep in her mind as the warmth of fire against skin heated her flesh. It ended quickly; for all that he loved to inflict pain, he was not fool enough to bring back the memories that still haunted her despite her best attempts to release them from her. He watched her as she squirmed, knowing that she did it partly to excite him, and partly because she simply could not help it. “Lucky man,” he breathed, leaning down and catching the tip of her slender ear between his teeth, bearing down until she yelped.  
  
Ashadel pouted again, twisting a finger in the fastenings of his robes and deftly undoing them. The costly fabric opened, revealing the simple clothes that he wore beneath them. It amused her that a man who wore the robes of fine material would dress beneath in mere linen, but she supposed everyone had their pleasures. Hers was barely contained in his leggings, the helmet of his cock propped up against his stomach already tipped with a bead of precum.  
  
Her body was halfway towards him, mouth parted and ready to lick his offering from him when he lifted her by her hair, throwing her to the ground. He had not caught her by surprise, but she knew what he wanted. She landed bodily, a soft gasp of pain, true pain, leaving her as her finger bent oddly for a moment against the stone and then was released. A dull twinge was all that remained when he attacked again, the side of his foot meeting her hip hard enough to throw her legs out from under her again.  
  
“Lucky me, that he's not here. Why is it that you, the one who endured so much abuse, always seem to come sticking your nose where you're going to get the worst of it?” He bent over her, dropping to straddle her chest, a single hand dwarfing her throat and gently pressing over her windpipe. His blue eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he spoke, watching her back arch and eyes fall closed as she struggled to free herself. “If I didn't know better, pretty thing... I'd say you're a whore who likes to play with fire. I'm not gentle,” he punctuated the statement by jerking her belt free and tossing it aside, releasing his grip long enough for her to take a single gasping breath before he pressed down again, “and you know this.”  
  
The rogue managed a pathetic mewl, bucking her hips upwards in an attempt to dislodge the larger man. She succeeded only in driving his hand harder against her windpipe as he adjusted, and she whimpered, clawing her nails down his arm. He relented only just enough for her not be in pain, but not enough to take a deep breath. While she squirmed and clawed, he only continued his work, methodically stripping her leathers from her with rough pulls and small snaps of flame that ate through the supple material quickly.  
  
She was left with only her sleeves intact and boots on, shredded and burned leather decorating the edges of them, when he finally released her and stood up. He watched her gasp, her cheeks colored with the flush of shame, arousal, and the barest fraction of lack of air while he removed the robes he wore and set them aside. The woman had barely managed to get to her feet before he had her by the hair again, curling the locks around his fist while his other hand pushed against the small of her back, guiding her to a pillar that could barely be seen in the tangle of bushes.  
  
None too kindly, he pushed her against the stone and stepped close, hand running up her side to tuck beneath her bra and then yank it free, savoring her yelp as the cloth bit into her skin and then snapped in release. Like the rest of her clothes, he tossed it aside without care or worry, working his hand free of her hair so that it could mirror the other, coursing up her body to catch her arms and press them to the stone above her head. Gregory leaned close, muffling his groan in the depths of a growl that sounded as he whispered his cantrip, and manacles of ice formed around her wrists, bound together by a few chains. Another chain of ice reached, wrapping around the pillar to connect on the other side to the other manacle, efficiently locking her to the stone.  
  
The woman smelled of fear and lust, giving him all the permission and desire he needed to progress. Her eyes caught his, and he brought the back of his hand down across her flank hard, making her struggle to remain standing. He smiled; she hadn't made a sound. “That's the game you want to play, kitten?” He stepped close again, and his fingers were like fire that ran up her sides, making her shudder and writhe, wanting to both get away from the pain, and relax in the rush that it brought. His hands went to the chains, pushing them down along the stone and forcing her to bend until her fingers nearly brushed the ground.  
  
Ashadel could see him step back to admire his handiwork, but her hair fell around her face and began to block the sight of him, and she closed her eyes instead. Her ears twitched, attempting to hear his moves, but the man was painfully silent. She heard nothing until the whistle that preceded what she believed would be another strike, and out of habit, she flinched. No blow came; only the dark chuckle of a man well amused, and planning more amusement.  
  
He touched fingers to the insides of her thighs, and with a flick of his wrist, made it apparent that he wanted her legs spread. When she did not move fast enough, he slapped his hand upwards, striking the sensitive skin of her labia with whip-like precision, the pad of his middle finger cracking sharply against her clit. A muffled whimper escaped her, her knees buckling and turning inward, and then she found her focus again and obediently spread her legs wider, just a bit more than the breadth of her shoulders.  
  
“Good bitch.” Gregory smirked as he mused, running a velvet touch over her flank and watching her flinch in that very special way. It was a flinch that heralded the warning of pain, the delicious mark of someone who had been shown their place and had the telltale signs they never realized. He gripped one cheek of her ass roughly, the tips of his fingers prodding at the puckered opening of her ass in a playful tease before he flicked his hand and delivered a strike to her skin, quickly turning the flesh pink.  
  
The same fingers returned to her ass, a whispered word forming ice on his fingertips that he used to wet the area he touched as he circled the opening and even pressed the slicked tip and first knuckle into her. She quivered, and he withdrew before she had the chance to complete her moan, turning it into a hiss of displeasure. “I said you were good, but not good enough.” He ran his hand down along her slit, pushing his thumb into her. “Tsk. I've barely done anything to you, and you're already wet. You really are a whore. A dirty, filthy whore who lives for pleasure and sin.” A second finger joined his thumb, and he pushed harder, twisting his hand and pulling a tortured moan from her.   
  
“Lucky for you, I know what to do with sluts.” He ripped his hand from her, exulting in her wail, and made his way to the belt he had discarded. Carefully, he unhooked the pouches that were attached, and bent the supple cord in his hand. Pleased with the tool, he approached her again and slid the leather up one lean thigh, tapping it on the crest of her raised rump. Beneath his breath, another cantrip was spoken, and the area around them seemed to dull in noise. “Have you been to the Church lately, slut?”  
  
“You know I'm not religious,” she gasped, shying away from the touch of the leather on her skin.  
  
“Shame. I suppose I'll just have to be the one to rip the secrets from your flesh.” He grinned, tapping the leather just a little bit harder against her skin. “How many times have you cum since we last met, whore?”   
  
Against her better judgement, she considered it for a few moments, ever expecting the increasing roughness of the taps to become a solid strike, but they only softened again. “I can't remember.” She bit back a yelp as the leather cracked down across the back of her upper thighs, just barely catching her labia. “I can't!”  
  
“Hmph. Shouldn't expect any less from a whore, I suppose. Fine then. Can you, in that pathetically short-lived memory of yours, remember who you fucked after you limped away from me?”  
  
“Y-yes...” Her hips swayed as she tried to rub the sting of the lash off of her skin and failed. “A night elf I needed to empty of some coin that he owed.”  
  
“Emptied him of a bit more than that, I would think.” He struck her again, a fraction of an inch before the last. “Tell me about it. Confess to me your imperfections. What did you use at first?”  
  
“My mouth,” she gasped. “I used my mouth.”  
  
“Is that so?” He traded the belt from one hand to the other as he stepped around her, coming to stand beside her. Slowly he bent, lifting the chain to a more comfortable height. “I'm a visual learner, whore. Why don't you show me while you tell? No,” he grinned as she glanced to her bound hands, “I won't release you. I know you better. Hands aren't always needed for your line of work. So, show me.”  
  
She gave him a pitiful glance as he stepped nearer, and she shifted her weight to allow herself the ability to lean towards him, catching the waist of his leggings between her teeth. For a moment she struggled, and then a solid strike along her flank spurred her to lower herself down to her knees, dragging the linen down as she moved. His cock moved with her, smacking with a thud against her cheek and smearing his precum along her brow. Her cheeks flushed as he laughed, but she persisted, nosing beneath his shaft and parting her lips only to brush them across the skin of his sac. Gregory smirked, a soft tsking sounding. “How typical. So you went for his balls first?” He rocked his hips, making his balls slap against her mouth and chin.  
  
“Clean mine as well as you did his.” His fingers gripped in her hair, pressing her mouth against his skin. Her mouth opened again, her tongue flicking along the skin. At first, she merely traced patterns with the tip, but soon flattened her tongue and lapped roughly at the flesh until at last she drew them into her mouth and rolled her tongue over the sensitive skin. Gregory stroked his length, allowing the soft hiss that escaped him to be the only sign of pleasure. Her eyes were closed until the first few globs of precum dribbled down his cock, splattering on the bridge of her nose and cheeks. He offered only a wry grin. “What? You look better like that.”  
  
As she drew off, the string of saliva that bound his balls and her lips snapped and dropped over her breasts. She spoke not a word, merely moving instead to suckle the bottom bead closest to his sack. He groaned, and she grinned a grin of triumph that melted under the swift strike he delivered along her ass, her gasp expelling a warm breath along his length. “I doubt you teased. A ravenous whore like you who only wanted the money would have gone quickly. Don't play games with me.” He lay the leather along her back, one hand twisting in her golden hair while the other guided his cock to her mouth. Willingly, she opened, and he coaxed the first two inches in.  
  
“Such a good little cocksucker. Show me how far down you went.” He released his length, rolling his hips and pressing his cock further into her mouth. His head rolled back as he felt her tongue work along the beads that lay beneath the skin of his shaft, and he growled as she paused when his crown nudged the back of her throat. “That's all? No, no...” He pressed harder, watching her eyes snap shut as she fought to relax. “I know you. You took him in all the way.” He tilted his head as he felt resistance give way, felt the muscles of her throat ripple around his cock as her body sought to swallow him and found itself unable. It was only once her full lips pressed to his pelvis that he eased up, his free hand stroking her neck where he could see the slight outline of his length.  
  
Slowly, he withdrew just enough to give her air, and then pressed back into her. His motions were smooth, controlled, and he interspersed his slow thrusts with presses that threatened to cut off her air again, and solid strikes with the leather across her backside and upper thighs, relishing the way she jumped when he struck her labia. Saliva began to wet her lips, and then run down her chin as it mixed with the precum, dripping onto her breasts. “And if I know you like I think I do, when he came...” he forced himself into her mouth completely, holding her there while he released his seed into her throat, an amount almost ungodly for one man to hold milked from his cock by her throat. When he finally released her, she pulled away, her lips connected to his shaft by several cords of cum-mixed saliva. They broke as her head bent, and she gasped for breath. “You sucked every bit of it down like the good little slut you are.” He waited for her to move, and she finally nodded. “What next?”  
  
“Nothing.” Her voice was hoarse and quiet, fingers curling and tapping nails along the ice that ensnared her wrists. “He passed out, and I got what I wanted.”  
  
“Mmm... not everything you wanted.” Gregory released her hair, pushing her face away from him roughly. She hit the pillar, a yelp of pain leaving her and thrilling him. In the air, he could smell the sharp tang of blood and saw her spit it into the bushes. He growled, striking her across the small of the back in such a way that she cried out in both shock and pain, legs curling beneath her body. “Admit it. You were disappointed.”  
  
“Of course I was.” Her voice was muffled, and she didn't move from where she had curled even while he poked his booted foot at her ass, slowly working his way to where her thighs met. She groaned as the material touched her labia, and squeezed her eyes shut in preparation of what she knew was coming. Another cry shot from her as he kicked her, sending shooting pain through sensitive skin and leaving her clutching the stone she was bound to.  
  
He bent low, gripping her hips and pulling them upwards, and she offered no resistance to him. His hands smoothed over her back, petting and soothing her for a few precious moments before he dug his nails into her skin and dragged them down, leaving red welts and thin stripes of blood. Through all of it, she clamped her teeth on her bottom lip and stifled her sobs, moving her legs apart as he desired.  
  
There was a moment where he paused, his fingers reaching between her legs to massage the skin he had kicked, slipping into her and spreading her walls as if testing her. He shook his head as he withdrew, a resigned sigh making it's way out of him. “Once in a while, I wish you'd stay the loose bitch that you are.” He circled sodden fingers around his tip before taking himself in hand and guiding her hips back, pushing himself at her entrance. “Then again, I do love when you scream.” Gregory grinned and leaned forward, gripping her hair in his hand and pulling her head back. “You must love it too, you're so very good at it.”  
  
The first two inches of him sunk into her, and she suppressed a whimper of discomfort that spurred into a gasping groan as the third inch, and a bead, was forced in. He paused, tilting her head to the side so that he could clamp his teeth onto her neck, a feral growl sounding against her skin as he calmly pushed himself in bit by bit. By the seventh bead, her gasps had become pleas of discomfort and he pulled out enough to make her relax only to drive himself roughly into her again.  
  
She sobbed, overcome with the pain, yet he could feel the way she worked herself around him. No part of her remained completely still, and he exulted in the feeling of her pussy gripping his length as he withdrew clear to the tip, his cock coated with her lubricating juices in near excess. His thumbs separated her labia, and he watched again as much as he could while he thrust back into her, taking up a slow and methodical rolling of his hips that was punctuated by a disgruntled sound each time he hilted in her.  
  
“You know,” he leaned over her back again, aiming his words into her ear, “I wonder how long your master would keep you, if you were to bear another man's child.” She gripped his length, head shaking, and they both groaned in pleasure. “I'm willing to bet not long. He'd see your belly swell, and know that you'd been especially whorish. Shall we find out, sweet pet? No?” He laughed as she shook her head fiercely. “Too bad. I've decided I'm going to keep you here, chained to this post, and I'm going to fill you with my cum.  
  
Like a good little whore, you're going to take it all. Eventually, your belly will swell with more than just my seed. I'll keep a pretty collar on you, make sure you're taken care of, though you'll still be made to take me like the bitch you are whenever I desire, and when you've birthed... we'll just start all over again.” He grinned as she whimpered and shuddered, her head shaking even more. “Yes, oh yes. See, you have no choice from here. You're mine...”  
  
“No... please, don't...” Her back bowed as he clawed his fingers down her skin, his pace increasing until her words jumbled and she could no longer speak. Tears of humiliation and pain streamed down her face, and he pulled her head back so that he could suckle the flesh there as he felt the tell-tale tremors of her impending orgasm.   
  
“My pretty little breeding bitch. I hope you're ready, because I've got quite a bit of cum stored for you. Perhaps you'll have twins...” She spasmed around him, a keening wail sounding in the area around them as she came, and her own orgasm triggered his own. With a grunt, he pressed himself as far as he could go into her, reveling in the feel of her struggling to get away from him as he unloaded that same impossible amount of cum into her.  
  
His hands moved to her stomach, cupping it as it began to distend just slightly. As his climax came to a close, he whispered the words that would release her, holding her tight as her legs threatened to give way. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground so that she straddled his lap with her back against his chest, letting her lean against him for support. His hands never moved; he barely noticed she had stopped crying until she touched his hands herself.  
  
“You'd make a beautiful mother, you know.” His voice was quiet, lips pressed against her shoulder. “I know that's unfair to use against you, and I know how much you wish it could be so, but that doesn't stop the truth of it.” Her soft sob was one of inner pain and loss, and he knew that he had pressed the wrong button, but also knew that she would never hate him for it. He waited until her body stopped trembling before moving, slowly guiding her off of him. Cum dripped from her, down her inner thighs to pool at her feet where she stood, her eyes riveted on the bump that was slowly vanishing.  
  
“Come on.” He held his hands out to her, the tips of his fingers glistening with ice. “It's going to take an hour to get you decent again.” She stepped to him silently, dropping down to her knees in front of him. His hands ghosted over her face, and he found that he missed the look of self-assurance she normally carried, so absent as he washed her face free of tears and grime. “Didn't hurt you, did I?”  
  
“No.”  
  
They both knew the truth.


End file.
